Vegeta's Nemesis
by Bucky
Summary: Complete After killing him, Vegeta's Nemesis complies with the prince's last request to protect Trunks and Bulma from others like her (Trunks romance is more of a result than a journey, but it's there, nonetheless :) )
1. Part I - Chapter 1

** AUTHOR'S NOTE : This fic has shorter chapters than my usual. Part I (the first 5 chapters) is written more in the spirit of the anime - its purpose, to establish the main character. Part II is like my normal drama/romance and takes place eleven years later when Trunks is a teenager. Suggestions and constructive criticisms are welcome!**

Attn: Vegeta Lovers! The first part of this story is about retribution - against him! He dies. You've been warned. And for any vulgarity-flinging FLAMERS, I have the usual three requests: A) Don't be a coward. Log in and sign your name, B) Please do not attempt to 'wax eloquent' in your flame. You don't sound half as cool as you think you do, and C) For heaven's sakes, use a dictionary. 

** Chapter 1**

** BACK WHEN FREIZA WAS TERRORIZING THE UNIVERSE…**

The Supreme Kai knelt down in his spirit room, and bowed his head to tune himself to the whims and happenings of the known universe. It was something he ritually did, though he rarely intervened in the dimension of the living. It was his duty to be cognizant of all intelligent life forms, for better or worse. 

He sent his feelers out to the East Quadrant, West Quadrant, North Quadrant-unsurprised to sense little more than a few interplanetary contentions, and occasional mayhem from a power-hungry tyrant. The struggles were all part of the natural evolution of any species. Evil though they were, it wasn't his place to get involved. 

Then he tuned into the South Quadrant-peaceful by nature, the Supreme Kai never felt waves of tyranny coming from there. That is, until today. 

He opened his eyes, stunned. He felt it like a blow to the gut. Something awful had happened there. 

No sooner had he noticed it than Kibito burst into his room. 

"Supreme Kai," Kibito said breathlessly as he hastily bowed to one knee. "The gates are inundated with souls. The souls of Moroshk." Then he looked up, gravely, and met the Supreme Kai's eyes. "ALL of them." 

"What?" The Supreme Kai stood shakily and faced Kibito. He knew well the people of the planet Moroshk. They had somehow advanced their minds beyond any other species. The magnitude of what they were capable of on a global scale--telepathy, telekinesis, communicating with other dimensions, healing--was unprecedented. Fortunately, they had been humble and good-highly uncharacteristic in such a powerful people. _And they were all gone?_

The Supreme Kai swallowed the lump in his throat. "What happened?" 

Kibito stood to his feet, anger creasing his face. "It was Frieza's xenocide soldiers. They annihilated the planet-blew it from existence." 

The Supreme Kai felt rage boil under the surface of his skin. _"Curse you Freiza,"_ he said under his breath. _Weren't the other three quadrants sufficient for you to terrorize?_ He clenched his fists. "What a waste," he spat. 

Billions and billions of souls had their lives snatched from them prematurely by the malevolent planet thief. Yet for all of Frieza's pointless brutality, it still did not warrant the Supreme Kai's intervention. He exhaled the tension, only to notice that Kibito was still staring at him. 

"There's more?" he asked. 

Kibito pursed his lips and took a deep breath. "Yes," he began. "There was something left in the wake of the planet Moroshk's destruction. Something unbelievably…_powerful."_

The Supreme Kai frowned. Something LEFT in a planet's destruction? "What could it possibly be?" 

Kibito shook his head. "I don't know. But whatever it is, its mass and energy are so great that the remaining planets in that solar system are being dragged out of their respective orbits." 

"WHAT?!" 

"The only other world in that sector that sustains life has already lost a quarter of its population due to the altered atmosphere." 

The Supreme Kai was speechless. 

"Something must be done," Kibito said. "Or else this power could extend beyond that solar system." 

"Indeed," the Kai said in horrified awe. He abruptly went to the Seeing Basin. He tapped his finger to the swirling liquid contained within it and directed his focus to where Moroshk used to be located. It took several moments, but the picture finally cleared. 

"There," the Kai whispered. 

Depicted amidst the debris of the blown planet Moroshk was a radiating orb of energy, webbed in threads of static light that sparked and spat as they intertwined. Even though it was a visual, the Supreme Kai felt his hair stand on end. Beads of electricity fed into the center, like umbilical cords, latching into the core. Kibito gasped. 

"Its n-nucleus," Kibito stammered. "Is it…? Is that…what I think it is?" 

The Supreme Kai was at a loss for words and could only stare at the orb's center. Curled tightly in a fetal position, and as naked as a baby fresh from its mother's womb, was a Moroshkian female. Her ebony skin - blacker than oil - reflected the crackling electricity like a mirror, and her brilliant, sapphire hair flared out around her like a vibrant, azure aura. She glistened in a coating of wetness, and her face was frozen in a grimace of agony… _Of pain._

"I…I don't understand," Kibito whispered. "Did she survive the blast? Had the Moroshkians evolved into a species that could subsist in space?" 

"No," the Supreme Kai said. "I'm sure of it." He clenched his fists to keep his fingers from shaking. "Something else entirely is going on, here. I'm going to try and tap into her thoughts." Having a singular intelligence to focus on, the Supreme Kai again sent out his feelers, until he felt the current of her mind. Narrowing his focus, he penetrated her consciousness. 

At first it was a dull noise, but then the rush hit him. He found no single personality, but billions; all terrified, and screaming as their lives were unjustly and maliciously stripped from them. Severed limbs, vacuum-bloated bodies, the screams of mothers trying instinctively to salvage their doomed children… All the horrors of a dying people were somehow concentrated into this single entity-this female. It was excruciating. Unbearable… The Supreme Kai cried out and released his mental hold. He fell to the floor, clutching his head in his hands. 

"Supreme Kai!" Kibito cried out and placed his hands supportively on the Kai's shoulders. "What is it? What did you feel?" 

"So…h-horrible…" he stuttered, his vision blurred from the water standing in his eyes. "I've never felt anything so HORRIBLE!" He screamed at the floor. "How can she endure it?!" 

"Endure what?" Kibito asked frantically, his voice weighted with concern. 

The Kai opened his mouth to speak, and then noticed three droplets of blood streaking his right hand. He choked as comprehension came upon him. "See this, Kibito?!" He flung his bleeding fist in his comrade's face. "THIS is from being subjected to her torture for mere seconds." He started to ramble, gasping in between words. "She was…coated in blood. Did you…see it?" He looked up and clutched his friend's vest. "She HAS no external wound. It's from tremendous spiritual trauma-it's causing her pores to secrete her life source!" 

Kibito's eyes narrowed, then widened dramatically. 

The Supreme Kai shrugged off his hands, and stumbled to his feet. "We have to get her out of there," he said as he wiped his eyes. "And teach her how to control it. The magnitude of her suffering is unparalleled. No living creature should be subjected to such torment." 

"But what is she?" 

The Supreme Kai paused, and locked stares with Kibito. "The last wish of a dying planet." 


	2. Chapter 2

** Chapter 2  **

**SEVERAL YEARS LATER, AND A NEW TWIST TO THE BUU SAGA...**

"Oh, just hurry it up already, fool boy!" Vegeta barked. "You should have finished him off by now." The prince watched in frustration as Gohan battled the demon king, Dabura, in the depths of Babidi's ship. 

The Supreme Kai peeled his stare off the fight to gawk at Vegeta. The prince seemed to radiate animosity, but more disturbing than that was his ridiculous over-confidence. All of these Saiyan creatures seemed to have it; but was it justified? Dabura had already killed Kibito, and petrified Piccolo and Krillin. He was a formidable foe, for crying out loud. They would all be wise not to underestimate him. 

The Supreme Kai regretted involving them; Goku, Vegeta, Gohan… But he had little choice. Moroshka was nowhere to be found. He had sent her out not long ago to scout out Babidi's last global residence, and she hadn't returned. He couldn't even find her ki-something that worried him more than a little. 

He thought about her reluctant smile, and the way she clicked her tongue when he asked her to run his errands. Maybe she was fed up with life under the Kai's paternal care. Perhaps she had finally ventured out on her own-in a parallel dimension or a ki-guarded planet. Either way, she wasn't here. Recruiting other muscle was in order. And so far, these males had shown considerable strength. 

"Ah, let him draw it out, Vegeta," Goku said with that relentless good cheer that seemed to grate on Vegeta's nerves. "It's been a long time since someone has wanted to kill him." 

_Unbelievable! _ The Kai thought. _Talking about it like it's a rare opportunity…_ "Listen you two, Dabura is King of one of the most violent species that has ever evolved. He's their strongest, and most powerful. That ranks him so far up that most fighters are unworthy to inhale one of his farts!" he exclaimed. "He should not be dealt with lightly." 

Vegeta rolled his eyes, and Goku shrugged. 

The Supreme Kai shook his head in disbelief and turned back to the battle. Gohan was smiling, but then again, so was Dabura. Both seemed to be toying with each other. Yet he couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. If Gohan _was_ able to beat out his monster opponent, then Babidi was all theirs. It wasn't like there was a power greater than the demon king's that could be manipulated by the foul wizard. 

"What I don't get," Vegeta said, his arms folded heavily across his chest, "is why someone like Dabura would ever lower himself to be Babidi's thug." 

"It's not that simple, Vegeta," the Supreme Kai said, eyeing him nervously.

_Vegeta would be a perfect pawn for Babidi,_ he thought. His alignment seemed ambiguous, as if he were forced to fight for good and hating every second of it. The Kai regretted not having studied these warriors out before enrolling them to his cause in stopping Buu. "Babidi's trick," the Kai continued, "is to seek out the evil in an individual; the blood thirst, the hatred, the anger-and twist it to his command. Because the technique appeals to one's baser nature, they soon lose all will power and end up a slave to Babidi." 

Vegeta snorted. "Baser nature _indeed,"_ he growled. "Those are some of my _finest_ attributes." 

The Supreme Kai could only stare. Goku must have seen the look on his face, because he sighed, and cupped his hands to his mouth. 

"HEY GOHAN!" he yelled. "The Supreme Kai wants you to hurry up!" 

_As if it will be that easy-_ The Kai's thoughts were interrupted by the sickening thud of dead flesh hitting the ground. Dabura had been decapitated. 

"Ugh," Goku winced. "Gross, son." 

As Gohan landed, he looked exhilarated. He wiped his hands on his pants as he spoke. "Boy, that was fun. It's been a long time since-"

"That took you well over a half hour!" Vegeta reprimanded. "Which is twenty-nine minutes longer than it should have lasted!" 

The Kai looked at the three of them in unmasked awe. "I…" he swallowed. "I take back everything I said." Then he smiled. Dabura was gone. After years of following Babidi, he finally felt like he had the upper hand. And he hadn't even needed Moroshka. "Now is our chance. We must break through the remaining levels of the ship and destroy Babidi before he can release Buu." 

"But isn't he going to throw anymore opponents at us?" Goku asked anxiously. 

The Supreme Kai shook his head. "Babidi saw how easily Vegeta and Goku killed his first thugs and panicked," he said. "Dabura was his wild card, I'm sure of it. No one else-"

The Supreme Kai's words were cut off by a ear-piercing cackle. Babidi's puny, and highly annoying voice filled the chamber. "So wrong you are, Supreme Kai!" 

Startled, the Kai spun around as Babidi continued, finding him nowhere in the room. 

"I'm more resourceful than you think," grated the voice. "My final warrior will surprise you _tremendously."_ Cackle, cackle. "Especially you, Supreme Kai." 

Babidi's laughter died out, and they all faced the door as it swooshed open. Out of the recess of the elevator and into the room stepped a woman. The Supreme Kai felt his stomach drop out and his heart lodge in his throat. 

_NO!_


	3. Chapter 3

** Chapter 3 **

Vegeta, watched her walk out in a state of bored annoyance. _A woman,_ he thought. _Oh, please._ He half wanted to release Buu himself just to get a decent fight. This female wouldn't last two secondssss…

_Wait. I know those features…_ The Saiyan Prince studied her more closely. Brilliant blue hair bushed out from a band holding it on top of her head, and her skin was as shiny and black as an onyx stone. She was stunning. Her warrior's armor matched the hue of her crystalline sapphire eyes. A vibrant "M" insignia was emblazoned on her forehead, branding her as Babidi's slave. Her pretty face was caught in a blank stare-evidence of her apparent brainwash. He imagined what expression would have adorned her visage had she been in control of her own mind. Then it hit him. 

_Moroshk. _ A planet he had destroyed while under the employ of Frieza. Their people had looked like that, with their black skin and blue hair. An unbidden ache formed in his gut-something that happened more often than not, nowadays, whenever he remembered his violent past. It was Bulma's fault. She had tamed his thirst for mayhem. 

Grunting, he pushed it aside. _ I hadn't known any of the Moroshkians survived…_ His thoughts were interrupted, however, when he noticed the look on the Supreme Kai's face. 

"_Can't be…_" the Kai took two steps forward and fell to his knees, trembling. For all the supreme being was worth, it looked as though he were about to cry. "Moroshka," the Kai whispered, terrified. "This is impossible…"

"What is it, Supreme Kai?" Goku asked. 

"She is intrinsically good," he stammered. "How did Babidi ensnare her mind?!" Then, as if in an act of desperation and denial, he stood and ran up to her and grabbed her forearms in supplication. "Moroshka, fight it! Don't let him control you!" The Supreme Kai shook her. "Pleeease!" 

Her pretty face stared down at him. If there was any recognition, it didn't even last two seconds. The insignia flared. With one swipe of her arm, she sent him sailing into the wall of the chamber. He hit hard, and slumped to the floor. Gohan ran up and knelt down by him. 

"Supreme Kai! Are you alright?" 

Vegeta watched in dread fascination as the Kai slowly lifted himself up on one elbow, blood trickling down his face from a battered eye. He looked in agony at the woman and then shakily stood to his feet. 

"We have to get out of here," he said desperately, grabbing handfuls of Gohan's shirt. "You can't fight her. None of you can! She's-"

"You said that about all of the opponents so far, and look what happened," Gohan said. Vegeta smiled. It was the Saiyan blood that made Gohan so anxious to fight. Of course they had nothing to worry about. Besides, Vegeta had destroyed an entire planet of these people. They weren't fighters. He didn't understand what the Supreme Kai was so worried about. 

"No! Listen to me!" the Kai pled. "She was conjured into existence by a very powerful people to avenge the annihilation of their home planet. I had to intervene, to keep her from unbalancing that solar system, and then train her how to control such an immense power!" he then slashed at the air for emphasis. "ME! The Supreme Kai! Her capacity for destruction is BEYOND YOUR COMPREHENSION!" 

_Fascinating,_ Vegeta thought,_ but no need to get worked up._ "Stop crying wolf you old fool," Vegeta snapped. "She'll be no more difficult than the rest of them." 

"But you said she was aligned with good," Goku said. 

"She…was," he choked. "Frieza, the source of her previous delusions, is dead. Her people have already been avenged by you, Goku. There's no evil in her for Babidi'smagic to adhere to. It doesn't make sense." 

Vegeta looked back at her. All this conversation going on, and the woman was just standing there. Finally, Babidi's voice cut through once again. 

"Come now, my dear. Do away with these pests. Start with the boy, as he seems to be the most anxious to die," Babidi said malevolently. 

Gohan clenched his fists and crouched down. "Go ahead," he said. "I'm ready." 

"Nonsense!" Vegeta called out. "You just got your turn." 

They were suddenly transported to a foreign, desolate landscape by Babidi's magic. The woman went after Gohan, despite Vegeta's protests. He threw a flurry of punches and kicks at her-some she bothered to block, and others she let connect. Either way, they didn't phase her. Gohan flipped back, startled. 

The Kai hung his head. "Gohan…"

"For crying out loud!" Vegeta yelled at the Supreme Kai. "The fight has barely started and you're already whimpering. I don't know what the big deal is. I've fought Moroshkians before," he spat. "They're weaklings." There. It was said. Truth be told, he felt it was disrespectful insulting her people after he'd mercilessly blown them from existence; but she was no threat, and the Supreme Kai had to know that. 

The Kai's head snapped up, and he stared at Vegeta. "They weren't a fighting people, Vegeta. You couldn't have fought them…" Then his eyes widened. "Unless, it was you who--"

"I destroyed an entire planet of these creatures back when I worked for Frieza," Vegeta cut him off. "So BELIEVE me when I say they're weaklings!" he yelled. An awkward moment of silence fell, and Vegeta realized that Moroshka had turned away from Gohan and was staring at him now. 

"YOU!" she screamed in dual tones as she flung a finger at the prince. It was the first time she had spoken, and he found her voice unsettling--like the voice of the dead. For all his earlier confidence, her glare penetrated him his psychological barriers. He watched uneasily as an aura engulfed her, and her eyes looked as if they had caught fire. The air sparked and crackled around them with electricity, and Vegeta had to dig his feet in to avoid being pulled to her by some unseen force. 

He powered up, just to stay on solid ground. 

"I know that voice," she said through white, clenched teeth, as she slowly stepped towards him. "It's the voice that has been ringing…in my head…since I was BORN!" 

She came at him then, and he went to block her move only to have his arms swatted aside like rubber appendages. In the same move, she clutched his neck with her hand, lifting him off the ground. He tried to kick at her, but each time she'd move just enough to avoid impact. 

When the black spots started to appear in his vision from lack of oxygen, Vegeta figured it was time to power up.

* * * 

"Vegeta!" Goku screamed, as the Prince's face purpled from Moroshka's grip. "Fight her, Vegeta!" 

Vegeta was suddenly enveloped in an aura of his own, and with a strangled cry he ascended, and kicked off her chest armor, flinging backwards. When he'd stopped moving, he mutely stared at the woman, his expression distressed. 

"Man," Gohan started. "I almost thought she had him there." 

"He will die," the Kai said quietly. "As will we all." 

"She can't win," Goku said as he nervously watched Vegeta. "Not against all of us. Gohan and I will jump in before she can kill him." 

"She CAN and she WILL win-and it will be for the same reason that you beat Freiza, Goku." The Kai said solemnly. "Because it is just, and she is the incarnation of justice," he continued as he looked at the unsettled Prince of Saiyans. "She's more than an avenging angel," he breathed. "Moroska is a God." 


	4. Chapter 4

** Chapter 4  **

_What's wrong with me? She's just a Moroshkian female! _ Vegeta's breaths were shallow and strained from when she'd gripped his neck, and it didn't help feeling as though his heart was pounding in his throat. _This isn't me. I have to fight. _

A growl rumbled in his gut and worked its way up until it exploded from his mouth in a scream. He ascended to the next level, and threw himself at her. She jumped back and dodged, and parried his onslaught. 

Vegeta went through the mechanics of a fight, but he came up short. Maybe it was the latent remorse of destroying her people, or perhaps she truly was as strong as the Kai said. Either way, before too long, she had knocked him on his back, and had thrown herself on top of him--pinning his arms down with her knees. 

She panted, but not from exhaustion. "You will feel...the pain...that caused my birth..." she seethed. Her brilliant eyes were wet with belligerence. Before he could throw her off, she clamped her hands on his skull and locked stares with him, her eyes on fire with righteous indignation. Then the visions came…

He gasped. 

Images filled his head. Horrible images; the thunderous crackle of a white-hot blast breaking through the surface layers of a beautiful planet, a small girl-child crying senselessly for her mother as people around her are being decapitated from the debris, Moroshkians by the millions--families, friends, comrades--being hurled by the explosion into the relentless vacuum of space. The hurt, shock, and pain of death after death. Cries, laments, wailings…so many voices in agony… He felt them as if they were his own. And through it all a dark, wicked face, laughing… A face Vegeta saw every morning in the mirror. 

The sound of his own hoarse screams filled his ears as the images finally faded, tapering his suffering down to agonizing moans. For the first time in Vegeta's life, he comprehended the evil of his past actions-and he _ loathed_ himself. 

He heard Kakkarot and Gohan cry his name in the distance, and felt the wind of their attacks. Then he heard the crash of their bodies imbedding in dirt as Moroshka batted them off with the ease of a flyswatter swatting flies. 

When he opened his eyes he saw her through blurred vision. She was looking down at him as some great internal conflict twisted her features. Babidi's insignia faded. 

He choked, with the agony of billions of innocents still singing his nerves. He saw his death in her eyes then, and it terrified, angered, and…_relieved _him? He shook his head.

The insignia on her forehead flared, and her eyes glazed over. She said almost mechanically, "It was all I was going to do, Murderer Vegeta. Show you the injustice," she winced. "…that created me." A grimace contorted her pretty face. "To give you a conscience. It was all I was going to do…"

He said nothing, for the only words on the tip of his tongue in that moment would have undermined his Saiyan pride - and he'd die before letting that happen. His tears were hot on his face from the psychological torture she'd subjected him to - a torture he'd earned a hundred times over - and he bit down on his own tongue and spat his blood in her face. 

"I know the thirst for…_revenge,_ Moroshkian," he hissed. "So avenge your people, and be done with it!" As he looked defiantly into her conflicted face, it occurred to him suddenly that this female might not be the only avenging warrior after him. What if others made their way to earth, and in discovering his absence, turned their fury instead to the only two people in the universe he cared about…? 

"Wait! Trunks and B-Bulma," he stammered. "You must look after them when I'm gone." He tried desperately to swallow the lump in his throat. "Protect them from…others like you." 

Her brows lifted in angst. It was apparent she was fighting Babidi's orders to kill. "Why…me?" 

"You're powerful… And the Kai said you're good," Vegeta choked as a picture of Bulma's and Trunk's smiling faces popped into his mind. "Please. They're… innocent." 

To his relief, she was able to nod before the insignia flared once more, completely engulfing her in Babidi's evil. When she raised her hand in the air like a blade, Vegeta closed his eyes. 

The blunt edge cut through his heart. 

It almost felt good. 


	5. Chapter 5

** Chapter 5  **

"VEGETA!!!" 

Goku burst through the rubble, but froze as he saw Moroshka's hand come down. The Prince of Saiyans arched his back, his mouth open in a silent scream-and then he went limp. Goku fell to his knees. "_No…"_

Gohan staggered to his feet as he watched with an unmasked look of sorrow on his face. 

The Supreme Kai had his gaze fixed on the Moroshkian, who, trembling, leaned down and softly kissed Vegeta's forehead. Then, without taking her eyes off of her victim's face, she spoke. 

"Babidi! Return us!" she yelled. "I must speak with you!" 

There was a pause. Nothing happened. So she spoke again. "I have a better way to end this, Master. Trust me!" 

After a few moments, the landscape blurred, and in the last second before they transported back, Moroshka lifted her face and locked stares with the Supreme Kai. Her visage was lit with a different kind of righteous ire, and before she vanished, he saw that Babidi's "M" insignia had disappeared completely from her forehead. His eyes widened in understanding. Then he, Goku, and Gohan all found themselves back in Babidi's chamber. 

"Where is she?" Gohan asked, his voice still shaky from watching Vegeta's death. 

"With Babidi," the Supreme Kai whispered. "Come. Our job is done here." 

"What?" Goku asked incredulously. 

"Vegeta--the source of her hatred--is dead," Kai said. "Babidi has no control over her anymore." At their confused faces, he added, "She will finish this job for us." 

As if in answer, a loud rumbling shook the ship, and it began to quake with explosions. Goku, Gohan and the Supreme Kai wasted little time bursting out of the thing before it completely blew up, engulfing the surrounding area in a large mushroom cloud. 

The Supreme Kai covered his face until some of the dust settled. Then he frantically scanned the ground until he found who he was looking for. 

Moroshka had escaped with Vegeta's body, and had laid it reverently in the shadow of a large rock. She knelt by him as would a grieving widow, her obsidian face shadowed by wisps of azure hair. Clenched fists, hung head, and trembling shoulders all evidenced the havoc wreaked on a good soul that was forced to do evil. The Kai dropped down next to her. He heard Goku and Gohan land softly behind him. 

"Moroshka-"

"Babidi is dead," she said, her voice hoarse and rugged. "And Buu's egg is safely buried." 

The Supreme Kai placed one hand on her shoulder, lifting her chin with his other. She reluctantly met his gaze, her large sapphire eyes moist and bloodshot. Her bottom lip was quivering. 

"He was good…when I killed him, Supreme Kai…" She grabbed his wrists and shook them, as if they were bars in a jail. "_He was good!" _

The Kai ached to see her spirit broken after he'd spent so much time healing it. _Curse you to Hell, Babidi for doing this to her! _ He locked her in his stare. "It wasn't you, Moroshka," he soothed, then grabbed her face with both hands. _"It wasn't you…" _

She chewed her lower lip between her teeth, and the tears in her eyes brimmed over. She flung her arms around his torso and buried her face in his tunic. Her body shuddered with silent sobs as he patted her back and held her head, whispering reassurances in her ear. It reminded him ruefully of when he'd first taken her under his wing. He'd taught her to store away the pain, and control the power. Through it all, she had become like a daughter to him. It made her pain his pain, and he hurt inside. 

It didn't last long. When the last of the hiccups had wracked her body, she pulled back and faced Goku and Gohan, who had been discreetly standing a few feet away. Their eyes were as shadowed as a cavern floor, remorseful and strained. She made no effort to wipe the tears from her cheeks. 

"Trunks and Bulma," she said quietly. "Who are they?" 

Goku's mouth opened, then closed. Gohan answered instead. 

"Vegeta's wife and son." 

The Kai watched her reaction carefully. Moroshka nodded as if it were the answer she had expected. After several seconds, she walked up to the Saiyans and placed her hands firmly on their shoulders. "They are now my responsibility." 

She waited for that comment to register in Goku's and Gohan's faces. When the confusion transitioned to shock and then acceptance, she continued. "They can't know that he died by my hand…"

The Saiyans reluctantly nodded, no doubt conjuring stories in their heads that would best suit the late Prince's death. 

The Supreme Kai watched the Moroshkian female, who had come so far under his tutelage; who had made him proud on so many occasions. And now he was going to lose her to this planet, and these people. 

_So this is your home now, Moroshka,_ he thought solemnly. _ May it be good to you. _


	6. PART II - Chapter 6

**PART II**

** Chapter 6  **

** ELEVEN YEARS LATER **

"Man. He looks PISSED!" Goten panted as he pushed his sweat-drenched bangs out of his eyes. "Should we stop?" 

Moroshka caught her breath and smiled mischievously at Goku's second son. "No way." 

Goten gawked at her in disbelief and then glanced nervously at the infuriated half-saiyan down below. Trunks' entire body was curled as tightly as his fists, and his teeth were gritted so hard, Moroshka was surprised they hadn't crumbled and fallen out of his mouth. His hair, like Goten's, had that second-level, ascension look; long, golden spikes sprouting in all which directions, and he was snarling like a frenzied hyena.

Moroshka was intrigued. Trunks had sparred two against one on several occasions, but this was the first time he had done it with a blindfold on. She hadn't expected him to tolerate this particular practice for so long. 

"Well, m-maybe we should let him take off his blindfold," Goten stammered. 

"Hmm." They had spent the last two hours slapping Trunks silly as he tried in vain to hone his ki-sensing skills, anticipating the blows without the aid of sight. It was a humiliating way to train, and Moroshka glanced at the pock-marked desert floor that had been dimpled by Trunks' mal-aimed ki blasts. They should have stopped. Really, they should have. 

But then she shook her head. "I want to see what happens when he snaps." 

Goten looked at her incredulously and then shrugged. "All right, but YOU'RE picking up the pieces." 

With that, they swooped down on him again like mockingbirds, their hits landing more than missing. Trunks face reddened and then purpled as he swung out viciously, desperately, pointlessly… His arms were bruised and bleeding, and Moroshka could only imagine what the rest of his battered body looked like under his clothes. 

Swipe, punch, kick, jab. Trunks was raging more with each offense, until finally, they had pushed him too far. Moroshka heard a deep growl resound in his gut, and by the time it reached his mouth, it had crescendoed into a soul-quaking roar. His body went rigid, and his head flung back, screaming at the sky. 

"Uh-Oh…" Moroshka hissed as sparks of electricity lanced her skin, and looked over to Goten who was gasping from the same electrocution. An orb of energy swelled around Trunks, and pushed them back-way back. 

"HOLY SHIT!" Goten cried as he braced his hands up to keep from being swallowed in the ball of radiation. "WHAT'S HAPPENING TO HIM?!" 

Ignoring his question, Moroshka frantically circled around Trunks' aura of growing energy and hooked her arm around Goten's waist. Powering up, she flew them a quarter of a mile away, and just in time. Trunks' power erupted. 

She turned her back to the onslaught as the energy threatened to rip the flesh off her bones. Though Goten was larger than she, Moroshka wrapped both arms tightly around the teenage boy, using her body to shield him from the explosion. He shouldn't have to pay for something she was responsible for. 

_Trunks! _She silently cursed herself. Out of duty to his dead father, she had tried her hardest to make him the man that his father would have been proud of. Had she finally gone overboard? She could only wait until the maelstrom subsided. 

And it did. When it lessened, Goten looked up at her with wide eyes, and they both turned to behold Trunks. Or what used to be Trunks…

Crackling, and snapping with energy was one GIANT of a man, hovering a hundred feet in the air. His brilliant mane had grown to his ankles. He trembled as if every muscle in his body were tensed, and the strained growling noises that emanated from his mouth were carried across the wind. 

Moroshka gaped. Goten was speechless, and they both hovered there, afraid to go any closer until they knew it was safe. After several seconds of bone-splitting anticipation, Trunks finally arched his back, let out one more cry and started to fall. He had passed out. 

Moroshka cut through the air, and by the time she caught him, he had returned to his natural state-clean-cut lavender hair, bulky build that paled in comparison to what she had just seen… It was insane. 

Cradling his big body awkwardly in her small arms, she landed in the bottom of the crater he had created, which in itself was frighteningly deep. She checked his vital signs. He was breathing…shallowly, but breathing. 

"What…was that?" Goten asked as he landed next to her, bowing over his unconscious friend. 

"He just ascended again," she said as a grin broadened her face, and she caught Goten's eye. "Our boy just reached a third level!" 

** * * *  **

Bulma sighed as her milky eyes rested on her unconscious son, and the oxygen mask strapped to his mouth. Then she frowned over at Moroshka who was sitting in a chair next to his bed. "You say he was more powerful than Vegeta?" 

Moroshka smiled and nodded. "His father would have been pleased." 

Bulma scrutinized her for several uncomfortable seconds, and then she snorted. "His father would have been jealous." 

"But no less impressed. Believe me, Bulma. It was…" she chuckled, "mind-blowing." 

Bulma cast another worried look at Trunks, this time mixed in with a twinkle of pride. Then she shook her head and turned towards the door. "Come get me when he wakes," she said over her shoulder. "And make sure he drinks that electrolyte solution right away!" 

"Will do." 

Bulma exited, and Moroshka beamed down at Vegeta's son. She painstakingly brushed his bangs away from his eyes, and then traced a finger along his jaw line. "You've done well, Trunks," she said quietly. 

She couldn't help but feel that his new power level was her gift to his dead father. _You knew I would do more than just protect them, eh Vegeta? That's why you asked me, wasn't it? _ She looked around the room. Trunks bedroom had become a shrine to the man. Vegeta's old armor hung in a glass case in one corner of the room while professional paintings depicting the prince in his Super Saiyan mode adorned the wall. They were modeled after a handful of pictures that Bulma had somehow taken of him, and those were framed and posted all about Trunk's room as well. The boy even had braids of his father's hair in a ceramic box on his nightstand. Vegeta had become an idol in this house, instead of the neglectful father and angry husband that Bulma reminisced of when Trunks wasn't around. 

These two had become her family; her life, and her soul ached with love for them. Moroshka remembered a little seven-year old Trunks; mischievous and prone to anger, but impossible not to love. And Bulma-she'd become Bulma's friend and confidant; helping with errands, and accompanying her on those ridiculously fun shopping sprees. They had filled a hole in her heart that she never thought was there. 

_Thank you, Vegeta, for giving them to me._

Just then, Trunks stirred. She grinned down at him and watched as his brows furrowed and lifted, opening his eyes a sliver. He moaned, and closed them again. "I feel so…drained," he mumbled in a hoarse voice. Then he rubbed his face with his hands and opened them again. He saw her. 

"Roshka?" 

"It's about time you came around, boy." 

He frowned cross-eyed at the oxygen mask, and pulled it off, tossing it to the floor. "What happened?" 

"You passed out. Here," she shoved the drink in his face. "Drink this. Mother's orders." 

He shakily took the cup and drained it, orange liquid spilling down his chin and onto his collarbone. Then he saw all the patches and bandages on his bare body. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at her. 

"Why do I feel like I should be mad at you?" he asked, still groggy. 

"What's the last thing you remember?" 

He frowned, and a dark shadow flickered across his eyes. "Being your damn punching bag. And Goten's," he lifted himself up on his elbow and glared at her. "Real fun game, _Roshka._ Blindfold me and beat me unconscious," he winced, and then he scrutinized her expression more carefully. "WHY are you looking so smug?" 

"Because we didn't beat you unconscious," she said, still unable to hold back the smile that split her face in two. 

By now, Trunks had realized something greater was going on. The hard edge left his face. "Tell me…"

She took a deep breath, and leaned towards him until their faces were inches apart. "Trunks," she breathed. "You ascended to the next level." 

She could have lit a fire under him and had the same effect. His breath caught in his throat, his eyes widened dramatically, and he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, standing to his full height. 

"I… Do…do you mean it?" He grabbed her by her shoulders and lifted her out of the chair. "I really hit the third level?" 

Moroshka looked him dead in the eye and nodded. Trunks dynamically threw his fist in the air, and then picked her up and spun her around. 

"Trunks!" She laughed. "You…always make me feel like…a RAG DOLL …when you do this!" Truly, it was a reminder that all her power meant nothing to him. And frankly, it gave her a sense of normalcy that she secretly appreciated. The boy had been so delighted when he finally surpassed her in height, and now that he ranged almost a foot taller, his ego was out of control. If he couldn't be stronger, at least he could be bigger, and he loved rubbing it in. She smacked his shoulder playfully and he put her down. 

"Tell me what it looked like!" 

"Well," she said, "you looked _primal_-though that hardly does it justice." So she told him in no uncertain terms what exactly had happened. When she was done, the teenage boy could hardly stay grounded. 

"Was Goten jealous?" 

"When he realized what happened, absolutely. You'll both have to fight to see who gets to be the piñata next time." 

"Well let's go! I'm ready-" his proclamation was interrupted as Moroshka strong-armed him back on his bed. "Hey!" 

"I'M not ready to goad you on like that again so soon. Besides, look at yourself. Your skin tone matches your hair color, boy. You need to relax-"

"Dende! We could go to Dende and he could heal-"

She clamped a hand on his mouth, and chuckled lightheartedly. "REST, Trunks. You're in no hurry." She raised her brows in challenge, and he finally gave up. _You're so high-maintenance, kid,_ she thought good-naturedly. _It's a good thing I'm here or you would have driven your mother crazy by now…_

"Wow." He flopped back down on his bed with his hands clasped behind his head. He looked wistfully up at the ceiling of his room, a residual smile still lifting the corners of his mouth. 

"Your father would have been proud, Trunks," she said humbly. The twinkle in his eye faded a little, and he looked at her rather seriously. 

"Roshka?" 

"Yes?" 

"Do…" He took a deep breath and sighed. "Do you think I could have saved my father? I mean, once I can control this new level without passing out-and if I'd been there… Do you think I could have stopped that monster from killing my dad?" 

No warning. No time to prepare a reaction. It hit her unexpectedly. She suddenly felt winded, as though her heart were thumping too forcefully against her lungs. Her throat constricted, and she looked away. _Could you have saved your father from me, child? Could you beat me now? _ She contemplated the wave of power that he had emanated in his most recent transformation. When he learned to control it, he could easily be her match. She was sure of it. 

_Would you kill me if you knew the truth, Trunks?_

"Roshka--"

"Yes, Trunks," she blinked back the tears and smiled ruefully at him. "You could have." 


	7. Chapter 7

** Chapter 7  **

A week later, Moroshka found herself in the kitchen helping Bulma cook dinner. They'd been talking about the parent-teacher conference at Trunk's high school, and the various reviews that she'd received from his teachers. 

"So anyways," Bulma continued as she dropped chopped broccoli in the steamer. "His Calculus teacher says he's been slacking off lately. The past month his grades have been B's instead of A's." 

"Really?" Moroshka asked as she pulled the chicken out of the marinade and flopped it on the grill. "'B' grades are still pretty good from what I hear." 

"Not in math. You're forgetting who his mother is," she said as she winked at Moroshka. "Math takes little effort for the Briefs. Which means he's putting in no effort at all." 

"Hmm." 

Bulma picked up a cutting knife and used it as a pointer. "You know what I think," she said, waving it around like a feather pen. "I think it's that Babbette chick he's been dating lately. SHE'S in his math class. No good, bird-brained bimbo…"

Moroshka laughed. No woman was good enough for Bulma's son. What Bulma didn't realize, however, was that Trunks was of the same opinion. The brat had been dating long before his voice even dropped. He'd been grounded more than Moroshka could even count for breaking curfew, and finally when he turned eighteen Bulma said 'to hell with it', and did away with the rules. They obviously hadn't been working anyhow. But the funny thing was that he was rarely without a girlfriend, yet he never had one for more than two months. 

"Her turn is almost up, I'd imagine, Bulma," Moroshka consoled. "He'll get bored with her any day, just like the rest." 

"Hmph," Bulma shook her head. "Have you met her?" 

"Not yet, no." 

"Well, I have. And there's something about her I just don't like." 

Moroshka flipped the chicken on the grill and shrugged. 

The phone rang. Trunks came bounding down the stairs three at a time. 

"I got it!" With one swipe, he scooped the receiver off it's lodging. "Hello? Yeah. What's up, Tyus?" Brief pause. "She did? That sucks! You HAVE to come!" 

Moroshka listened disinterestedly as she picked the chicken up off the grill and put them on the plate. Trunks had been friends with that Tyus kid ever since middle school. For some reason, the fool boy always had a crush on her-and he wasn't shy about it either. It was awkward at first, then flattering, and now it was just amusing. 

Moroshka was surprised that anyone found her attractive at all, considering her anomalous features. Yet she'd been hit on plenty in public while out with Bulma. The blatant stares still unnerved her, but not as much as they used to. 

Trunks hung up, and looked over at her purposely. Before the glint in his eye could materialize into some brilliant practical joke, she made for the stairs. 

"Whatever it is that you're thinking, Trunks, you can forget about it," Moroshka tossed over her shoulder as she walked out of the room. 

"You don't even know what I'm going to ask!" he cried out as he followed her. 

"I know that look." 

"What look?" 

Moroshka rolled her eyes and opened the door to her bedroom. He came right in after her. 

"Okay, listen," he grabbed her arm and turned her to face him. She sighed and looked up at him. 

"Goten, Tyus and I are going to this concert tonight, and Tyus' girl dumped him at the last minute and he won't go without a date." 

"How sad," she said sarcastically. "And…no." 

"Oh come on! We already have tickets, and we can't leave him behind. Besides, it'll be fun." Trunks did a hideous impression of whiny puppy dog eyes. 

"Oh, please," she said as she clicked her tongue. "That look is hideous on an adult." Then she laughed inwardly at herself. The nuances of this world's youth had really pegged her. The Supreme Kai would shake his head if he heard how she talked when the teenagers were around. 

"You NEVER go out. What could it hurt?" 

"There is no room in my heart for anyone besides you and your mother." 

"I'm not asking you to marry him for crying out loud! I'm asking you to HANG OUT with him in a group setting. Like you hang out with Goten and I." 

"You and Goten don't drool when I walk in the room." She went over to the vanity and started to take out her hair clips. "Besides, do you know how old I am?" She asked, quirking her eyebrow. Granted, in earth years she was technically 26-barely younger than Gohan, and then she had been born an adult with no change to her physical appearance in all these years, but still… "How would it look--"

"You look no older than me!" He grabbed her hair in his fists and propped it up in piggy tails. "Especially like this!" 

"Hey!" She pried his hands from her mane. "So…undignified, Trunks…" But her reprimand did little from stopping the giggle that seeped out of her mouth. She sighed, forcing the scowl back into place. _No respect, that boy… _

Undaunted, he bent over and pressed his cheek up against hers and looked comparatively in the mirror. 

"Agh," she complained. "You know it makes me feel like a misfit when you do this." She looked at the reflection, and as usual, cringed. Her face was itself the color of shadow, and her blue eyes seemed too big for it at times. People had thought her hair too fantastic to be real, and her irises some electric Halloween contacts. She stuck out wherever she went. 

And then there was Trunks. Combining the best traits of both parents, his handsome, boy-man face oozed charisma. Inheriting Bulma's keen sense of style, he always seemed to look as though he had just walked out of a magazine. The kid had turned out to be quite a specimen. 

"Ah, c'mon, Roshka. Tyus is my boy. We can't leave him behind," he said as he wrapped his arms affectionately around her shoulders. 

"Oh, go with him," came Bulma's voice from the doorway. Trunks stood upright, and Moroshka looked to see her leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. Her mouth was serious, but her eyes were smiling. 

Moroshka gaped at her, having a keen sensation of just being betrayed. "Bulma? At what point did you side with the enemy?" 

Trunks was surprised as well, but no less delighted. "See? Even MOM thinks you should go." 

"I don't do that," Moroshka protested, feeling outnumbered. "Go on…dates. Dating is for people who aren't…me." And what she didn't say, _I'm a God of Vengeance for crying out loud! _

Trunks snorted. "If all your arguments are as clever as that one, you might as well get dressed right now." 

Moroshka raised her brow at him. _You wanna get beat, boy?_

Bulma pushed off the doorframe and walked up to her. The woman took a deep breath and leaned over, cupping her hand to Moroshka's ear so Trunks couldn't hear. "Listen. If you go, you can monitor his behavior. I want to know if this Babbette is the reason for his bad grades." 

Moroshka moaned. Bulma winked at their reflection in the mirror. "It won't be that bad." 

She huffed a little, and glanced at Trunks who had an ear-splitting grin on his face. "Oooh, FINE," and added grumpily under hushed tones, "But your altruism seems an awful lot like espionage, Bulma." 


	8. Chapter 8

** Chapter 8  **

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Moroshka muttered as she looked at herself in the full-length mirror of Bulma's dressing room. "This is the most ridiculous, superficial, petty, nonsensical, pathetic pass time-"

"Hold still," Bulma said as she zipped up the dress in the back. "There." 

Her invective was cut short. _Whoa… What a sight. _ Now that the whole ensemble was together, Moroshka could only stare dumbly at her reflection. The suede sandals somehow laced all the way up to her knees, and she wondered how in the world they were going to keep from falling. And the sepia brown, velvet dress was snug and comfortable, all right. _As comfortable as an underslip,_ Moroshka thought timidly, _and not half as modest. _ She could see more of her thighs than her calves, and more of her breasts than her thighs-not to mention the cool breeze she felt all the way down her bare spine. 

"Wow," Bulma shook her head in silent admiration. "You do this dress more justice than I do." 

"Where's the rest of the outfit?" Moroshka complained. "I feel like I'm ready to be marinated and barbequed." 

"That's…it, I'm…afraid." Bulma was still giving her handiwork a good once over. She then fussed a little with Moroshka's hair, which was left down to accentuate the blue-studded choker on her neck, and though most if it was tucked securely behind her ears, wisps of it still tickled around her face. 

The doorbell rang, and Moroshka felt her stomach lurch up into her throat. _Great Kai. Am I nervous?_

"Let Trunks get it. It's probably your date," Bulma said. 

Moroshka's body went rigid, and trepidation made her palms sweat. Not only was the occasion completely unfamiliar, but the attire as well. She felt like hiding underneath Bulma's bed. 

Lost in her anxieties, Moroshka gasped when heavy footsteps made their way up the stairs. She braced herself as she heard Trunks voice echo into the room. 

"You just about ready? Tyus is down-" he stopped mid-stride when he saw her. "…stairs…" His jaw dropped, and his eyes flung open. A crimson-red flush immediately sprang to his face, and Moroshka could almost hear his heart palpitating in his chest. 

"_Whoa…"_

Bulma just beamed, and after several uncomfortable seconds, Moroshka threw her hands up. "That's it. I'm not going," and headed for the bathroom. 

"Roshka, wait!" Trunks ran up and grabbed her arm, his composure somewhat regained but the flush still colored his visage. When she faced him, scowling, he laughed nervously. "I just didn't know you were so…curvy." 

"This is a mistake-"

"Give her a coat, mom," Trunks said, still holding her arm as he eyed Bulma rather seriously. "She should have a coat." 

Bulma raised her mouth to protest but something in the way her son looked at her just then changed her mind. Moroshka felt like they were communicating telepathically-and it was a conversation that she wasn't privy to. 

"She's going on a date, mom; not a catwalk…" Trunks finally said, though Moroshka had seen many of his past girlfriends just as scantily clad. _Strange… He never defended their modesty…_

With one last look over, Bulma went inside her stand-in closet and pulled off a chestnut jacket to match the dress and tossed it to her. 

Moroshka caught it on reflex and gaped at them both. "I've been asking for something more modest since I stepped foot in here, and Trunks comes in, asks once, and you listen to him? What in the world is going on here?" 

Bulma and Trunks both opened their mouths and then shut them, eyeing each other awkwardly. 

"Oh, nevermind," Moroshka said. "Let's just get this over with." She slipped the jacket on and closed it securely in the front, noticing as she did so that Trunks relaxed visibly. 

After all, he had finally stopped blushing. 

** * * *  **

With the concert over, Moroshka found herself shimmied up in the back of the limo with a none-too-subtle Tyus. She'd been battling blatant advances with blatant rejection all night. Undaunted, he thought it was a game and got bolder as the evening went on. Thank heavens the date was ending and they were on their way home. 

She laughed inwardly. The concert. It was a classical bit, with a full string orchestra. Ethereal, uplifting…and boring as hell to three particularly well-dressed young men who'd been trying to impress their dates. Trunks, Goten AND Tyus had all nodded off during it, only to be nudged by the women sitting with them. 

_The women sitting with them… _ Moroshka's gaze landed on Babette, the buxom blonde that was resting her head clingingly on Trunks' shoulder. _Bulma wasn't kidding about you, chick, _ Moroshka thought in alarm. Sure, every last spec of makeup was drawn on perfectly, and with the exception of a big ugly brooch pinned to her dress, her clothing was classy. Her conversation was both witty and pleasant, and by all practical standards the girl seemed like a good catch. 

But she was fake. 

Having been raised by the Supreme Kai, Moroshka was keen to contortions of reality, and this particular female had a façade-both metaphorically AND literally. It wasn't that she had a hidden storage of power, or an intrinsic gift invisible to the common eye. 

The girl was a phony. Something was tweaking how she was visually perceived by others, and Moroshka found herself more than a little curious about what she really looked like underneath the mask. _Of all the strange…_

What hidden agenda do you have, Babbette? 

Perhaps she was the cliché ugly girl who wanted to be pretty, having somehow stumbled upon the magic that could make image-altering possible. Or maybe she was hiding from some horrible past. 

Moroshka winced. Hiding from past evils was something she was all too familiar with. 

Babbette had noticed her stare, and nervously looked out the window. Trunks caught Moroshka's eye and pursed his lips, his eyes widening for emphasis. _You're freaking her out again, Roshka! _ She could almost hear him say it. 

Suddenly, an arm slid across her shoulders pulling her in. "I can't wait to get you on the dance floor, Ms. Body Karate," Tyus said seductively in her ear. "Hi-YA." 

"What dance floor?" she sat forward, scooting away from him. 

He grinned at her and winked. "The Keona Club. Our next stop." 

"What? There'll be no 'dancing'!" She shot a fang look at Trunks. "You didn't say anything about DANCING!" 

"Uh-Oh," Goten smirked behind closed fist. 

Trunks fidgeted uncomfortably, and when he opened his mouth to speak, the limo pulled up to the curb and stopped. Moroshka glanced out the window. A big neon sign that said 'Keona Club' stared back at her. She sat back in her seat and glared at the lavender-haired Adonis across from her. 

"No." 

Tyus grabbed her hand and tried to tug her out with him. "C'mon, baby. I'll make it worth your while," he said as he eyed her hungrily. Trunks must have seen the look on her face just then because he reached up, and tapped Tyus' hand. 

"Give us a moment, Tyus, will ya?" 

Tyus sighed heavily, and met Moroshka's furious eyes. "Okay, but when you get out of the limo, the only direction I want to see you heading towards is mine." A wink, and he followed the others out of the car. 

Moroshka flung her thumb in the boy's direction, and raised her eyebrows in keen aggravation. "Did you just see that?" 

"Roshka, listen-"

"He's been _outrageous_ all night! The last thing I need is a perfect excuse for him to have his hands all over me." 

Trunks looked at her pleadingly, and placed a trepid hand on her knee. 

"No, Trunks. Absolutely not. I went to the concert. I did my part. You can't make me go to a dance club." She got in his face. "That's TOO much to ask!" 

Trunks' face shifted through an odd arrangement of expressions right then, ending in a surprised chuckle, his eyes crinkling in delight. "You just reminded me of my father when he'd argue with mom about taking out the trash." 

She opened her mouth and then clamped it shut, feeling her resolve fade away. _You had to go and bring him up, didn't you kid? _

Trunks saw her lose momentum. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "Tyus dances well. He can lead." At her pathetic, defeated look, he added, "Look, if he gets out of control, I'll jump in, okay?" 

Almost scowling, she let him drag her out of the car and into line with everyone else. Tyus immediately fell back and slid up like a lizard beside her, already wrapping his arms around her as if she were his property. 

"I knew you couldn't resist the Tyus man," he bantered down at her. She shrugged him off and rolled her eyes. _Only a moron refers to himself in third person._

And the evening went accordingly. Moroshka thought she'd landed in hell when they entered, with all the blaring music and dizzying strobe lights. Just as she feared, the 'fast' songs provided an opportunity for Tyus to fling her about, grinning all the while like she was his own personal showgirl. But that didn't compare to the awkward hassle of the 'slow' songs, where she indeed had to spend most of the time shifting his hands back to the small of her back. 

Goten laughed every time she caught his eye, the smart ass. Then finally, during the second set of slow songs, she searched for Trunks to come to her aid. When she found him dancing with Babbette, she was surprised to find him already watching her, and with a frown on his face. 

He bent down and spoke in Babbette's ear. She nodded and walked off the floor, and he came up behind Tyus and tapped his shoulder. 

Tyus turned and started to protest, but apparently got the hint when Trunks' hard expression didn't waver. Shrugging, he strode off the floor to go keep Babbette company. When he'd left, Trunks slid his hands around Moroshka's waist and pulled her to him. 

She stood on her toes to speak in his ear over the blaring music. "It's too much, Trunks. He's crossing too many lines," she said angrily, recalling the first of many attempts made by the pubescent boy to grab her ass. "I'm not a hired escort, you brat. I'm Roshka." 

"I know," he responded. "I'm sorry." 

"I won't dance with him again." 

He met her eyes and gave her a soft, rueful smile. "I don't think that I'd let you." He pulled her closer, almost protectively. "Dance with me." 

Maybe it was the way that he said it, or perhaps it was the intensity with which he looked at her just then, but Moroshka felt a fluttering in her abdomen, which immediately spread throughout the rest of her body, leaving her short of breath. 

_What the…? _

He curled her left hand in his own, and began to pace the floor. "Thank you for coming, anyway." 

She nodded, but was too distracted by odd sensations to speak-like his breath on her ear, the heat from his chest radiating through his shirt, the tender way in which he held her hand, and pressed the small of her back… It felt like every square inch of her skin had become hypersensitive, wholly cognizant of his touch. 

_At what point did you become a man, little Trunks? And how is it that a Goddess of Moroshk suddenly feels so shy and vulnerable around you? _

The sensation seemed to steal her speech, and she dared to look up at him, only to see him already pegging her with a stare that sucked the breath from her body. _Damn… You've never looked at me like that before, boy._

He curled himself around her while somehow maintaining a inch of heated space between them, as if stretching the boundaries of formality without actually crossing them. "You…" he paused and his gaze dropped to her mouth and then back up to her eyes. "You're really pretty…tonight…Roshka." 

She hadn't realized that she stopped moving until Tyus came up and stuck his obnoxious face between them. "Good. You're done. Can I have her back now?" he asked good-naturedly, having no awareness of what he'd just interrupted. 

They parted reluctantly, and then Trunks shook his head abruptly and looked at her as if surprised to find her standing in front of him. "Ummm…"

She took a deep breath, feeling the weird stupor fade away. "No, Tyus. It's time for me to go," and with a curt nod to both the guys, Moroshka briskly walked out of the club. 

Making sure no one could see, she hopped into the night sky, and as the chill nocturnal air cleared her thoughts and rinsed away the memory of his touch, she found herself wondering if she'd imagined the intimate moment. 


	9. Chapter 9

** Chapter 9  **

"So what's this thing you want to show us, Babette?" Goten asked impatiently as he followed Trunks through her apartment door. His mother was already going to kill him for breaking curfew. "I really need to get home." 

She turned around, curls bouncing and shut the door as he passed through. "Stay here. Let me go get it," she said and then slipped out of the room. 

Goten frowned at Trunks when she'd left, and he just shrugged innocence. After dropping the others off, Babette had demanded they come inside to see some magic gizmo that her 'ancestors' gave her. She acted like it was the secret of the century. 

She was hot. Goten had to give her that, but frankly Trunks' chick gave him the creeps. If she had parents, they were never home, and her place looked bare…_really _bare. Especially for such a dolled up babe. Shouldn't there be pink lace and posters of boy bands everywhere? 

"Yeah. I should be getting home, too," Trunks said. Goten saw that weird wistful expression crawl back into his face. He'd been wearing it since Moroshka left. Goten nudged him in the arm. 

"Don't worry about Moroshka, champ. She'll get over it. I doubt she'll ever let you set her up again like that, but she'll get over it. And it's not like Tyus didn't know he was pushing her buttons. You saw how he was dancing with her," Goten said as he chuckled, remembering how audacious their friend had been with the straight-laced Moroshka. It had cracked him up to see her fight Tyus off the entire evening, no doubt using every bit of restraint she could to keep from killing him. Goten exhaled his breath in a whistle. "I would have paid money to see that." 

"Yeah," Trunks said, the corners of his mouth barely lifting into a forced smile. 

_Dude_, Goten thought. _ What's his deal? _

"Okay," came Babette's voice from the bedroom. "You can come in, now." 

They looked at each other, sighed, and walked in. Before them on a crude metal stand sat a large, transparent ball. Goten couldn't help but to be intrigued. 

"What is it?" Trunks asked as he hesitantly approached the orb, studying it in blatant curiosity. 

Babette tapped it with her finger, and the thing came to life, with cloudy tendrils snaking its interior, emanating a soft, blue light. "It's a relic of my ancestors," she said, almost entranced by the thing, her eyes wide and staring as if crazed. "It's magic." She then met their eyes with her own. "It can show you any moment in time, past or present," she said eagerly. 

_What is a high school girl doing with a thing like that?_ Goten wondered. 

"ANY moment?" Trunks asked with a eagerness that made Goten nervous. 

She nodded greedily, then grabbed Trunks' hand and led him to it. "Come now. Is there any event that you'd be interested in watching first hand? I bet there is…"

Trunks looked at the ball, transfixed, looking twice as anxious as Goten felt. He nodded hesitantly, like a little kid. An ominous feeling came over Goten suddenly, but it was so elusive that he did nothing to stop the chain of events. Besides, what if the orb worked? How cool would that be? 

She placed Trunks' hands on the thing. "Now just think of the moment you want to witness first hand, and push the concept out and into the ball with your mind." Trunks, being accustomed to focusing his ki, had little trouble. The relic swirled, and its light fluttered as his hands encompassed it. 

"Will we be able to see what he sees, Babbette?" Goten whispered as he watched Trunks eyes widen, then narrow at it. 

She shook her head. "It only plays for the eye of the beholder," she answered quietly, staring at Trunks as intensely as he was staring at the orb. Again, Goten got an unsettling feeling in his gut. 

_You sure talk weird, chick, _he thought. His attention was yanked back when he heard Trunks gasp. Turning back, he saw his friend's face twist into a cocktail of confusion, disbelief, horror… 

"Trunks!" Goten cried, stepping towards him. "What is it? What do you see?" 

Trunks could only shake his head abruptly, his gaze relentlessly held by the ball in his hands. His jaw muscles spasmed, and his eyes watered, but he didn't look away. 

Goten clenched his fist and grabbed Babette's arm. "What is it doing to him?" 

She shook her head, a disturbing glint in her eye. "It's the vision he's watching. It must be something…_awful."_

Goten looked back to find Trunks trembling, radiating waves of ki. _ My word, he's about to ascend,_ he thought in disbelief. _What the hell is it showing you? _

Trunks opened his mouth in a silent scream as his eyes spilled over. Goten imagined it was the worst expression he had ever seen on his friend's face, and just as he stepped forward to pull him away from that thing, Trunks released it, and fell to his knees, panting in great rasping breaths. 

"Trunks!" Goten knelt beside him and placed his hands on his friend's trembling shoulders. Trunks' eyes were clenched shut, as if in an effort to banish from his mind whatever images the orb had shown him. His forearms were bulging, and his hands had curled into claws, splintering Babette's hardwood floor. 

A strangled sob escaped his lips then, and without looking up, he spoke. "Moroshka," he said, his voice gnarled and unnatural. He suddenly leaned up and grabbed a fistful of Goten's shirt, nearly knocking him over with the force. His face was twisted in agony, his tear-brimmed eyes were filled with fire and hate. 

"It was Moroshka, Goten!" he cried. _"She killed my father!"_

** * * * **

Moroshka had found it nearly impossible to sleep. She'd taken a bath to relax, and then tried reading, but it seemed as though nothing could stop her mind from going over and over that strange connection with Trunks. She'd analyzed every nuance of the moment. And when she tried to stop thinking about it, something else would trigger the memory. 

"This is ridiculous," she muttered. "The last time I couldn't control my own thoughts was when Babidi brainwashed me." After doling over it for the umpteenth time, she convinced herself that it was her imagination. Kai knows it's not like she had ANY experience when it came to intimacy, having always been driven by a greater calling. Bulma had told her plenty, but experiencing it was entirely new… Her mind trailed to Trunks' mother and she gratefully let it. 

Bulma had freaked when she'd told her about Babette's mysterious cover up. Moroshka almost felt a tad sorry for the girl. By tomorrow morning, Bulma would have her completely checked out; who her parents were, where she was born, criminal records… She shuddered at the thought of having her own past thrown in her face. _Glad you're on my side, Bulma Briefs._

Finally she fell into the lassitude of sleep…only to be ruthlessly yanked out of it by an enormous power. 

She sat up and froze as it sent thunderous waves of energy over Capsule Corp, leaving her winded. _What the hell…? _ She leapt out of bed and went to the window. Whatever it was, it was massive. And it was headed her way. 

Her thoughts instantly went to Bulma and Trunks. _You'll not touch them, whatever you are!_ With no time to throw anything on over her nightshirt, Moroshka shot out of her window, and hovered protectively over the building that had become her home. 

As it approached, the tremendous power became disturbingly familiar…intimate. Suddenly, she recognized who it was. 

_Trunks? _ She squinted her eyes at the night sky, and found him. A brilliant light closing in fast…too fast. She barely had time to brace herself as he blurred by, hooking her head in his elbow in a chokehold. The shock of it all permitted little defense, and by the time he flung her down they were well out of the city. She hit the ground, dirt exploding up all around her. 

Harsh confusion was overruled by gut instinct, and she powered up and sky rocketed out of the crater to face him, only to lose her courage the second she laid eyes on him. He was at his third level, and somehow…_somehow _maintaining it. His wild mane trailed behind him like a backdrop, while his clothes screamed at the seams from his muscular expansion. The ire in his eyes had bleached out his irises, leaving great, ferocious white orbs that glared at her as if she were the devil incarnate. She wilted under his gaze. _All this fury for me, Trunks? _

"YOU!" He flung a finger at her, his expression both terrifying and pained, as if he was trying to bury some deep hurt with anger. "YOU were the monster that killed him!" he bellowed. 

He didn't need to say whom. She knew. For a brief moment, she wondered how in the world he had found out; however, looking at his trembling form, she realized that it didn't matter. His anger was justified, and if he wanted to kill her, she would let him. But first he had to know the truth-all of it. 

"Trunks," she cried, unsurprised to hear the quiver in her tone. "Listen to me-"

"You KILLED him, and then you stole his family! Everything I thought you were was a LIE!" He came at her again, his moves made frantic by his rage. She dodged and dug her knee in his gut. It did little to slow him down, and she soon found herself gasping for breath as both his hands closed on her throat. 

"Why, Moroshka?!" he hissed through his teeth. As terrifying as he was, she saw that his face was streaked with tears, and strangled hiccups spasmed in his throat. To see him in this state hurt her more than the hands crushing her neck. 

"Let…me…show…you…" she choked out. Instead of complying, he sent her again plummeting to the earth, only to follow suit and cage her to the ground. 

"Murderous…lying…backstabbing…" he sobbed with each word, and he became blurred in her vision as his strength overwhelmed her. 

_I have to show him,_ she thought, and in one desperate move she kneed him in the groin, flipping him over and then flipped over and clamped her hands on his head. When their eyes met, she did a 'transfer', just as she had with his father. And she showed him all…

Moroshk's destruction, and Vegeta's cruel laughter; her horrible birth and the unspeakable injustice that brought her into existence; the Supreme Kai's tutelage, and Babidi's enslavement; Vegeta's face as he begged her to protect his family, and his death; the release from Babidi's hold, and the wizard's demise by her hands; and finally, her resolve to comply with the dead Saiyan's wishes. 

All shown from her perspective, all felt with her emotions. There was nothing he did not know now. The hate melted off his face, and she felt his power digress under her hands until he transformed back into his natural state, and he lay there, gasping for breath like a fish out of water. 

"I'm so sorry, Trunks," she said as the hot tears poured down her cheeks. She collapsed on his chest then. "If I could change the past, I would. I would have had you live out your days in ignorance of…all this. Honestly, I would have." 

His heartbeat was screaming through his skin, and he made no effort to pull her in or push her away. The stun of what she'd just shown him too much to handle. She rolled off, and propped herself up on all fours, bowing her head. "I had to show you…everything…before I let you kill me," she said, forcing the words through her constricted throat. "And it's important…to me that you know that though I intervened in your lives out of obligation, the love I have for you and your mother is no less real. I love you," she said trying to muster her courage, and stifle her tears. Powering down, she released all her energy. Then, Moroshka tipped her head to the dirt, and spoke into it. "Now, avenge your father." 

She kept her eyes on the ground as he stood shakily to his feet. Several seconds of agonizing silence passed between them and Moroshka clenched her fists in anticipation of the blow that would take her life. She could hear his uneven breaths, and could see his trembling calves. She closed her eyes. 

But the blow never came. She heard the quick patter of footsteps and following swoosh as he ran away and fled into the night sky. Left there with all the guilt of a traitor, Moroshka sobbed in the dirt as if her soul was rent in twain. Trunks had spared her. 

She was almost disappointed. 


	10. Chapter 10

** Chapter 10  **

**TWO MONTHS LATER **

Moroshka sat up in her bed of pine needles, gasping. It had been her own cries that had woken her. She looked around with open eyes and waited breathlessly as the nightmare's hallucinations disintegrated into reality. She blinked away the burn, and felt herself tranquilize as the memories of her dying planet faded into a white-sweet moon peeking at her through evergreen branches. 

She shuddered and held her head in her hands. The Kai had taught her how to keep those horrors out of the forefront of her mind. But ever since she fled the Brief household, they'd been haunting her sleep. She felt like her sanity was balancing on a razor's edge, and if she didn't find peace soon, she might become dangerous. 

Moroshka startled when she notice her ki. It had climbed significantly during the nightmare this time. She immediately powered down. _Of all the careless…_ She thought in aggravation. _ Hope no one sensed me. _

But sure enough, several minutes later she felt Gohan's approach. _Agh. Figures. I shouldn't have made a residence so close to his home. _ She'd spoken to him the day she self-exiled, considering he was the only other person on the planet who had been there the fateful day that she'd taken Vegeta's life. And she'd left him in no uncertain terms that she was to be ostracized. No more connections or ties. They meant too much when she had them, and they hurt too much when they were gone. 

The soft thud of feet on the forest floor sounded behind her. _Gohan…_

"Moroshka…"

She glanced at him through slitted eyes. He looked disheveled; wrinkled clothes, sleep-tossed hair, as if he'd just hopped out of bed the moment he sensed her. She sighed. "I told you two months ago that I don't merit sympathy or charity, Gohan," she said wearily, perfectly complacent to bask in the hell that had become her life. 

"Yes you did," he said as he plopped down next to her and rested his elbows on his knees, fixing his gaze on the brilliant crescent moon. "But you forget I was raised by a hard-nosed Namek. Tough talk is often just that-TALK." He looked her in the eye, then. "You don't have to exile yourself like this." 

She faced him, vehemently. "Gohan! I killed-"

"Yes, yes. I know. You killed Vegeta. I was there, remember?" 

She huffed and lay back down. "And then in an effort to redeem myself in Trunks' eyes, I showed him just how evil his father had been, shattering his image of a man he worshipped; and that doesn't include subjecting him to the tortured screams of my people as they were flung into space." She felt her eyes moisten and blinked it back. "If I could do it again, I would have taken the blame and let him kill me without adornment or apology. That way-"

"They miss you, Moroshka." 

"Wha…what?" Her heart jumped up in her throat. _Have I longed to hear those words so badly?_

"Bulma has been calling our house looking for you," Gohan said. He met her eyes solemnly. "She wants you to come home." 

A bit of silence passed as this sunk in. "She…does?" Moroshka couldn't help it. Her throat constricted, inhibiting speech. But then, Bulma wasn't as marred by her betrayal as Trunks was. Her biggest offense was against him. "Trunks…he hates me." 

"Oh really?" Gohan quirked an eyebrow. "I'll have to remind him then, because when he came over last week, all he wanted was to see you again, Moroshka." 

She almost pitied herself at how quickly she felt her hopes rise. _He wanted to see me?_ "You saw him? How…how is he?" 

"If it weren't for the cloud hanging over his head, I'm sure he'd be fine. I told him I would try to find you." 

For the first time in two months, Moroshka felt like an old wound had finally stopped aching. Thoughts of Bulma and Trunks filled her mind, as they always did, but this time they were glimpses of what could be instead of what had already been. 

"They…don't despise me, then?" 

"No. Something you could have realized much sooner if you would have bothered to leave a forwarding address." 

She said nothing, daring to hope that this might not have such an ugly ending after all. 

Gohan rested a hand on her arm, and eyed her seriously. "You can't watch over them if you're not there, Moroshka." 

She cringed. He was right. It had been nagging at her since the day she left. She got to her feet and dusted off. "Enough said-"

_"Moroshka!"_

It was Supreme Kai's voice, and both she and Gohan heard it. 

"Kai?" she asked, alarmed. He made it a rule not to communicate at random in this dimension. It was some sort of code he had to live by. Therefore, this had to be important. 

_"I shouldn't be intervening, but Trunks is in danger. You have to hurry. Babette just poisoned him."_

_Babette! _ Moroshka had completely forgotten about her. Vegeta's dying words suddenly rang in her ears. _ 'Protect them…from others like you…'_

"Poisoned him with what?" Gohan screamed. 

_"I can tell you no more. Now GO!"_

Moroshka let her panic fuel her action. She jumped up, needing no more incentive to move. "Gohan. Go get Dende, and I'll intercept you on the way to Capsule Corp. With Trunks." 

"Right." 

They both shot off in opposite directions. As her body sliced through the air friction, blood roared in her ears. Moroshka had never flown so fast. 

** * * * **

She burst through the front doors to Capsule Corp. to find Bulma in the front room, cradling her son in her arms. The valiant woman looked up with tears streaming down her face. "Moroshka! Thank heavens you're here." 

Moroshka ran up and knelt down beside them. Trunks' teeth were clenched shut, and his body was lightly convulsing. He seemed totally incoherent, but that wasn't what made the bottom of her stomach drop out. Trunks was fading…literally. She was able to look straight through his flesh and bones to the tiled floor beneath. 

Bulma sniffed back the tears, and started to ramble. "He went to go see Babette for the first time since you left. A couple hours later he collapsed in the doorway, saying something about a snake bite," she sobbed. "And then I couldn't reach him anymore. It's getting worse." 

Just when she said it, Trunks' body fluttered twice like a blitzed light, and settled on a more transparent tone. Moroshka curled him up in her arms, and swallowed back the fear frenzying for attention. _Oh Trunks! Hang in there!_

"Gohan's on his way with Dende, Bulma. I'm going to meet him half way," she said as bravely as she could. 

"Wait!" Bulma pulled something out of her pocket and handed it to her. "It's Babette's address." 

Moroshka stuffed it in her pocket, and nodded. Without further discussion she raced out the front door and flew towards a feint power on the horizon of Gohan and Dende. 

Trunks cringed as she flew, as if aware of the altitude change. "Don't die on me, kid," she said in a choked whisper, holding him closer. His body was emanating little heat, and weighed half of what it used to. 

She met up with Gohan in just a couple of minutes. Dende was wrapped securely in his left arm, his face stunned from the windburn. They descended immediately and she laid Trunks' body on the ground. Little moans were escaping his fading lips, and he shuddered violently. 

If the guardian and half-saiyan were unsettled by his appearance, they said nothing. Dende immediately leaned over him and placed his hands on Trunks' head. The little Namek was suddenly encircled in an aura of healing, and when it went to transfer to Trunks, something happened-and it wasn't good. 

Dende cried out and fell back, gawking at his hands as if he were surprised to find them at the end of his wrists. Then his stare fell on Trunks' prone form. 

"What happened?" Gohan asked, the panic in his face mirroring the panic that Moroshka felt. 

"I…I can't heal him!" Dende cried. "He's not wounded." 

"What?" Moroshka screamed, the flicker of hope she had quickly diminishing. 

"He's being sucked whole into another dimension. When I tried to transfer my energy to him, it tugged at me! He doesn't need to be healed. He needs the spell to be reversed!" 

"It's a spell, not a poison?" Gohan asked. 

Dende nodded. "His consciousness is already there, and whatever it is he's experiencing on the other side can't be very good," the Namek said, looking at each of them with the fear of losing a friend to something worse than death. "See how he convulses?" 

Moroshka knew of a few parallel dimensions, the Dead Zone being one of them. It felt like a cold, skeletal hand gripped her esophagus. _ Trunks, no! _ She felt the water stinging her eyes, and stood up, taking the address out of her pocket. 

"Talk to him," she said to Gohan. "Try to keep him grounded while I go and search out the witch that did this to him." 

She took to the air once again, her stomach tying itself into knots. 


	11. Chapter 11

** Chapter 11 **

She was in there. Moroshka could sense her malignant presence. _Fool girl. You should have run when you had the chance. _

The doors to Babette's apartment gave little resistance to an angry god. Splinters scattered about the room, and Babbette jumped up off the floor, staring at Moroshka as if she were an apparition. 

"I…I thought I got rid of you!" She cried out, all her pretty features twisted in denial. 

Moroshka crossed the room and grabbed her neck. "Where's the cure, witch!" 

"There is…none!" she choked out. Moroshka imagined that her face would have turned purple from lack of oxygen had it been her actual face. Suddenly, the ugly brooch that the blonde had been wearing earlier flared and one of its ornamental snakes crawled off of it and struck at Moroshka. 

Moroshka dodged it, dropping Babette in the process. The snake also hit the floor, and she immediately crushed its head. 

"No!" Babette cried. 

"Cure!" Moroshka screamed at her. "Now! Or die!" 

"Then I'll die," Babette spat. "I came to finish the job that you could not, Moroshkian! That boy's father slaughtered an entire planet of my kind! I lost my female, and children…everyone! He had no mercy in sending them to the next dimension and I'll show even less!" Her voice had begun to drop, and she ripped off the brooch, revealing her true form. Moroshka stepped back and choked. _A Swathesrap…_

The creature looked like a fur-covered octopus, with large black-oiled eyes. She'd only seen glimpses of them in the Kai's Seeing Basin. From what she remembered, their species had mastered the art of magic, and used it efficiently and comfortably. 

Moroshka looked around the room and saw another bewitched trinket-a Seeing Orb. Sister to the Seeing Basin. It revealed the past and present. _That must be how you found Vegeta's family, and learned of me._ And then something else hit her. _That's how Trunks discovered that I killed his father. _

"You stupid creature," Moroshka hissed. "Vegeta is dead…beyond hurt! Nothing you do to his family will pain him because his soul has already been recycled!!" She bent down and curled her fingers into the thing's fur coat. It squealed a horrible, ear-piercing scream. "Do you hear me?! This does nothing to him! You. Are. Harming. The. Innocent!" she shook it violently with each word. 

Its eyes glossed over and then refocused, and the knowledge came to her then that the Swathesrap had indeed been pushed to insanity from its inflictions. She would have felt sorry for it, had she the time. 

"The cure, Swathesrap. The cure!" 

It screamed again, somehow producing a long blade. It swiped at Moroshka, and she jumped back, only in time to watch the blade come full swing and imbed itself deep in the creature's eye. 

"No!" Moroshka leapt on it, screaming over its dying wails. "You have to tell me! You can't let him die like this!" She slapped the creature, trying to shock it into awareness-trying to shock it back to life, and when it finally went limp she still shook it as if doing so would somehow magically produce the reversal that would save Trunks. 

Finally she collapsed on the floor, sobbing. Despair, worse than that which had created her, saturated her soul, for it was her own. She slammed her fists into the floor repetitively. It was ironic. Vegeta had chosen her for her immense strength, and here it was completely useless. "I…can't…fight this!" she cried out to no one in particular. "I can't fight the Swathesrap's magic!" 

She said Trunks' name over and over, as if the sound of it could somehow soothe her loss. And in the midst of her mourning, she noticed a dim, blue glow emanating from the Seeing Orb. 

She froze, and blinked. She blinked again. 

Moroshka jumped up and ran to the orb, placing her hands on it. "Show me, orb. If there is a way to reverse this poison, show me where it is!" 

The picture swirled, clouded, and cleared. She knew the place. She was in it. She knew the object. Its snake had tried to bite her when she arrived. 

Moroshka swooped down and scooped up the brooch. Though her speed in returning to where Trunks lay was unprecedented, Moroshka felt that it was the longest flight of her entire life. 

** * * *  **

Trunks was barely there. His body had less mass than an apparition, and it terrified her. She fumbled with the brooch, trying to find a latch, a vial of liquid, or _something._ "I don't know what to do with it!" She screamed. 

Dende took it from her and studied it out in his hand. After several excruciatingly long seconds, he could only shake his head. Gohan took it from him and tried to lay it on Trunks' body, but it fell straight through. 

"Oh, Trunks…" she whispered, as she watched his form fade to nothingness. "NO!" She grabbed the brooch and crushed it in her hand. Its magic released in a large, crackling explosion, and Moroshka threw the debris in the dirt. "This is surreal. He can't be gone…" 

All the fight and rage left her, having nothing left to focus on. She fell to the ground and buried her head in her hands, nourishing the grass with her tears. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear Gohan sniffing, and Dende's labored breathing. 

_Trunks!_ She had failed to protect him, and as a result he was gone. His cocky smile, jesting nature, mischievous eyes… She felt a hand on her back-Gohan, no doubt. She ignored it. All the comfort in the world wasn't going to bring him back. 

The hand spread across her shoulders, and tried to lift her up. Mechanically, she leaned into him, resting her head against his chest and then she opened her eyes-only to see Gohan and Dende standing several feet in front of her, both wiping their eyes and donning the most ridiculous smiles she had ever seen. 

She gasped and pulled back. Trunks sat there, his warm eyes narrowing affectionately as he smiled down at her. "Now will you come home, Roshka?" 

A small cry escaped her lips and she outright tackled him. He wrapped her up in his arms and let her recover from both the shock of his death AND recovery. Smashing the brooch had done the trick. Finally, with her composure halfway regained, they started to discuss what had happened. 

Trunks briefed them on how he'd been infected, and that it indeed had been the Dead Zone that was sucking him out of this dimension-the thought sent Moroshka's blood boiling anew-and Gohan mentioned the Supreme Kai's intervention and their frenzied rescue attempt. 

"Man," Trunks blew his breath out in a long whistle. "Goten kept telling me that Babette gave him the creeps, and mom outright hated her-" he paused, interrupted by Moroshka's uncontrollable fit of giggling. He quirked an eyebrow at her, as did Gohan and Dende. Her laughing shortly subsided, but not her grin, and she grabbed Trunks' shoulders, getting in his face. 

"Uh, Trunks? About Babette…" she said, licking her lips for emphasis, "It turns out you've been kissing a squid with a penis for the past few months." 


	12. Chapter 12

** Epilogue **

She was home. It had been a month, and the nightmares had stopped, but she still sat and pondered it every evening as she lay in bed. Home. Something she wouldn't ever take for granted. The first week back had been wonderful, masked by the celebration of Trunks life and her return. Bulma hadn't changed, and still treated her like the sister she never had, but Trunks, on the other hand still seemed distant. 

She knew she couldn't expect him to forget how and why his father was killed, and it pained her to think that it just may be a wedge in their relationship for the rest of their lives, but she wasn't about to leave again because of it. Vegeta had made too many enemies when he was alive for her to rescind her protection. Come hell or high water, she was part of their lives now. 

That's what she'd remind herself of anyhow, when Trunks would walk by with a curt nod instead of a slug in the shoulder, strained smiles instead of playful banter, or when he'd start a conversation, only to walk out when it hit a lull instead of basking in the comfort of their friendship. There wasn't much comfort in their friendship anymore, and it was only complicated by weird, unmanageable urges that left her thinking that another trip with him to the Keona Club might not be so bad. 

It was something she tried not to think about, which was hard because she faced it everyday. Moroshka sighed. 

There was a knock on her door. 

"Come in." 

Trunks quietly entered her room, closing the door behind him. He was dressed in his flannel bottoms, giving her the impression that he'd just gotten out of bed, unable to sleep. 

"Trunks…"

He stood there holding the knob with his hand as if gathering the courage for some momentous conversation. Finally, he let it go and walked over to her. She got out of bed and stood as he approached. 

"Hey," he said, his eyes shadowed. "We need to talk." 

She took a deep breath, feeling the beginnings of nervousness course through her veins. Conversations that started like this always seemed to be filled with ultimatums, or that's how it seemed with Bulma's soap operas, anyhow. 

He clasped his hands and then dropped them to his sides, as if unsure what to do with them. "Things are…_awkward_… with us," he said finally. "There's an uneasiness that wasn't there before." 

She nodded and looked down, absently picking at the corner of her nightshirt. "I know," she said quietly. "I…can't expect you to forget that I killed Vegeta. And I imagine that it might be more comfortable if I wasn't around, but I can't…I _won't_ leave you again, Trunks. I'm sorry." 

There was a pause. She didn't know what expression crossed his face right then because she couldn't bring herself to look at him. Instead she saw his hands fidget at his sides, and his weight shift from one leg to the other. Finally, after a brief, but drawn out silence, he said deeply, "That's not the only tension between us, Roshka." 

She frowned, and looked up at him. His eyes were heavy, but just as intense as the night they had danced. What other offense had there been? And if it was an offense, why was he looking at her like that? 

He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, and chewed it thoughtfully. "You'll stay regardless of what I say or do?" 

Again, she nodded, distracted by the way he was looking at her. Pursing his lips as if satisfied with her answer, Trunks closed the distance between them and hesitantly slid a hand around the small of her waist, pulling her close. She immediately felt the heat radiating off his body, and thought he meant to embrace her, but he instead tilted his head and locked her in his gaze, as if to prepare her subliminally for what he was about to do. 

It dawned on her a split second before his lips tickled her own. For a brief moment, Moroshka wondered how such a concentrated sensation managed to affect every square inch of her body. For the first time in her life she understood what the big deal was, and found herself delightfully dizzy when he finally pulled back. 

It had left her practically incoherent, and she figured she would have gawked at him had her eyelids not been so damned heavy. "What…happens when…you," she swallowed, trying to stop her speech from slurring as he rested his fingers lightly on her neck and traced her jaw line with his thumb, "get bored with me two months down the road?" 

His eyes widened briefly and a small smile curved his lips. "That won't happen." 

"What makes you so sure?" 

"Because," he leaned over and began to nuzzle her neck, muffling the next words in her hair. "I was wondering what you were doing for the rest of your life, and if you'd like to spend it with _me_."

Her breath escaped in a light chuckle as she tilted her head to the side. "Considering that I was going to anyway, why not?" 

.

.

**A/N: I'm contemplating taking this fic off ff.net. What do ya think? Did it suck? Should I just remove it? **


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